The Harley Quinn Project
by TallBeauty
Summary: Newly graduated psychiatrist, Harlene Quinzel, finds herself caged in complete darkness. Not knowing how or why she was there, she is terrified and wonders how long she will be in this place. Her last abiding memory of being at her new job at Arkham Asylum is her only clue as to her whereabouts. Read the story and find out more... Part 1.
1. Chapter 1

_It's dark. God, my head feels like it's spinning. Ugh, what's that smell? Owww...my shoulder...Ugh, where am I? I can't see anything...  
_Thoughts ran through her head. She couldn't comprehend where exactly she was or...why she was there. Or how she got there.  
_Am I dead?  
_She thought this over and over.  
_I can't be dead. I still feel pain. I'm obviously breathing and have coherent thoughts. I am, by reason, still alive. But why am I here? In this utter blackness?  
_She kept thinking, trying to remember what she could. But the pain in her left shoulder was almost unbareable. She could feel the floor beneath her was cold, almost like cement. She began groping around carefully, hoping that whatever was around her might give her some clues as to where she was.

She felt the floor as far ahead of her as she could. All she could feel for at least three feet was cement. Then her hand brushed up against something that felt like a metal rod. Obviously rusted by the feel. She felt up the rod, and realized there was a metal barracade in front of her. Almost like a cage. Groping around more, she felt it turn into a corner where she felt the hinges to this "cage". She felt for a lock. No lock...it was welded shut.  
She suddenly began to panic. She was welded into a cage in...God knows where. She desperately groped, her breath picking up.

"Arrgh...my shoulder...what did I do?" she said aloud, finally. Feeling the her wounded side, she felt blood pooling in the socket. She lifted her injured arm over her other shoulder, keeping it above her heart. _Self diagnosis: Torn shoulder muscle...?  
_She had to calm down, she wasn't fully aware of her surroundings yet. She felt further along the bars, reaching a brick wall. She knelt down feeling what seemed may be rags of some sort. A blanket perhaps? Suddenly she felt something underneath the rags. Something cold and fleshy.  
The smell from earlier got stronger. She felt more and realized this thing had hair! She leaped back, letting out a terrified and disgusted shreik. It had to be a dead human body. She was in a cage with a dead body. How in the world did she end up in this thing? She was utterly horrified and trembling in a corner near where the brick wall and bars met. She realized that tears were streaming down her cheeks, and suddenly she was very tired.

She didn't know exactly how, but she had fallen alseep. Maybe a few minutes, maybe hours, but she was still in pain and terrified.  
_What did I do to get in this place? What...did...I...?_

Suddenly, she remembered. The last thing she could recall was being at her work. She was a fresh new face at Arkham Asylum as a clinical psychiatrist, newly graduated from med school. It was the most renowned facility in all of Gotham, housing the most criminally insane from the public they threatened to infect. The patients were not classified by name, only by their given numbers. The list of mental illnesses seemed overwhelming on her client list. But one in particular intrigued her.

Patient #4479.  
Sex: Male  
Mental Diagnosis: Pschopathy (severe), Antisocial Personality Disorder (severe), Diogenes Syndrome (severe)  
Age: (by medical examination) 29-30  
Racial Classification: Caucasion  
Notes: Patient seems to exhibit no remorse or moral emotion due to the crimes he has commited. Patient laughs uncontrollably at the misfourtune of others. Patient is considered to be dangerous, unpredictable and deceitful. Any direct physical treatment given to the patient must be executed with high/extreme caution. Patient classification could safely be described as **evil**.  
As she read this, her eyes fixed on the word "evil". Who was this patient? What did he do? She couldn't help but be curious.

She walked into her office, which had just been freshly painted on the outside window with her name. Dr. Harlene Quinzel. She was arranging her desk when suddenly the fire alarm began to sound. She quickly hopped up from her chair and looked outside her door. She could see smoke down the main hallway. She turned to go the other way and opened the emergency door. All she could remember was something of brute force hitting her right on the back of her head, and then...nothing.

Now she was here, trapped. She was scared and being alone in darkness seemed to make things even worse. She knew that the dead body near her had probably been there a while. The smell was terrible, even though after a while she got used to it. But the darkness was so mysterious and quiet she wondered what else may be lying around her. What other things were in this place with her.  
The cage was cold, and the mixed smells of rotting flesh and mold were terrible. She curled up, slipping her arms into her blouse to keep them warm. She was still wearing her pencil skirt, which she tried to slip further over her goose-bumped legs. She couldn't find her shoes, so her feet and toes seemed the coldest. She sat in her corner, shivering. She wondered when all this would change.  
_Will I die here? Is this meant to be my untimely grave? I wish I could at least see some light before I died..._

She bit her lips, which were cold and chapped. Her stomach began to growl deeply. She was very hungry. Even bad enough, she had skipped breakfast the morning she went to her new job because she was so excited, and now, she was suffering and very hungry. Even worse, she was thristy.  
The few moments she would fall asleep were filled with dreams of ice water, in a clear glass, dripping from condensation. Looking so beautiful and quenching. She would reach and take a drink and feel...nothing. Only wake to darkness of her surroundings.

She was laying on the floor of her cage, when suddenly she heard something. She quickly pulled herself up. It sounded like footsteps. She stayed quiet, trying to keep her breathing short.  
The footsteps got louder and grew closer. She debated on whether she should call out for help or stay quiet. Was this a hero come to rescue her? Or the one who put her in here? She wasn't sure, so she listened intently. The foot steps were finally right outside her cage, and she heard the rustling of clothing. Then, the sound of a full plastic bottle hit the cement floor inside her cage, near where she sat. She jumped at the sound, not knowing how to react. It was silent for a few moments, and after a while, she heard a wheeze-like snicker and footsteps walking away from her area.  
She was confused, but she wondered what that sound was? She groped the cement, finding a plastic water bottle. She brought it to her face, removing the lid, sniffing the contents.  
_A bottle of...water?_  
She took a small sip, tasting the refreshing water inside. She quickly began to down the bottle. She drank almost all of it, until she realized she might want to conserve it in case the stranger didn't come back with another one for a long time. Setting the bottle down, she curled up back into her ball, and tried to sleep.

She didn't know how much time had passed. She had no idea of the date or time. Only that she was still in existance in this dark place. The smell had gotten worse, and Harlene barely ventured beyond her corner. The stranger had returned a few times, leaving her new items each time. A blanket, a bottle of water, and even 3 pieces of bread. She had survived in this place for what seemed like forever. She felt like a blind caged animal, having someone visit her and give her sustenance. She desperately wanted to get away from the dark. To shower. Oh, to shower. The stench of the body seemed to marinate her clothes, and her blonde hair was greasy feeling.

As if something had heard her silent pleading, suddenly she was blinded by a bright light being snapped on out of no where. She was startled and sheilded her eyes, still huddled in the corner. She tried to focus but such brightness after so much dark made her eyes sensitive.  
"Let there be light..." said a strange voice. Harlene turned her head to the sound. "Who's there?" she replied, still trying to focus her sight. "Too bright? Oh, I'm sorry." said the voice. The light began to dim, and she could see a hand on the large lamp that was pointed right into her cage.  
"Is that better?" the voice asked. Harlene rubbed her eyes, trying to figure out who was talking to her...

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

**Note From Author:** _Thank you to my reader(s), first and foremost. Secondly, I wanted to give credit to TheJokerBlogs on YouTube for the use of the phrase "Patient #4479". They are all amazing writers and I love what they've done, so I had to tip my hat to them somehow. I appreciate reviews and thank you to anyone to does them. Don't worry, J will be making an appearance soon.  
Again, thank you. And the story continues..._

_-TB  
_

"Hello there..." said the voice again. Harlene was too occupied looking at her surroundings. She was sitting in a cell block with iron bars all around her, and not far from her was the decomposing body of a human next to her. The initial sight of it made her jump and curl up again.  
"Hey!" the voice shouted. Harlene looked toward where this male voice was coming from. She couldn't see the face of this person, he was shrouded in shadows behind the light. "I said...hello." the voice said again. Harlene was puzzled. "H-hello?" she replied back gingerly.  
She wasn't sure how exactly to speak to this person. She was unaware of any intention they might have with her. She was still curled up, grasping her injured arm, which seemed to be getting worse. She tried to look past the brightness of the light to make out the stranger. "Who are you? Why am I here?" she finally asked.

"You're a shrink, no?" the stranger asked. Harlene's thoughts paused, "I suppose..." she replied. She could hear this male stranger chuckling almost inappropriately at her response. Harlene was getting frustrated, "Stop playing with me! Where am I? Why am I-"  
"You, Miss Quinzel are here because I brought you here. Where you are, I don't think you need to know at this time. And...me...?" The stranger's footsteps hinted that he was coming closer to her cage. He stood in front of the bright light, only his silhouette visible. She couldn't make out anything facial of this man, except for his scraggly hair which, in the light, looked like it was a faded green color. "I am your patient." he said, resting his forearms on the bars of her cell.  
Harlene looked up at him, holding her shoulder. She didn't know what to say.  
_Is this guy keeping me here as his own personal psychiatrist?  
_"How do you know my name...?" she asked. The stranger cocked his head, "I took an interest in you, miss Quinzel. I heard your name and I just wanted to know...more about you..." he said, licking his lips. Harlene sneered at him. _Perhaps he really does need a shrink...but why me?  
_"Where are you from, miss Quinzel?" he asked, still leaning against the bars, seeming non-threatening. "Metropolis." she replied, staring at him, trying to make out his face. "Ah..." he said, turning around, "...wonderful medical school there. Tell me, have you ever worked on any severe cases...?" he asked.  
_What...?_  
"Uh, no not really. I just graduated. I don't have a lot of experience yet." she replied, gripping her arm. She had tried to keep it still as long as she could over the time she had been locked in the darkness, but she knew she needed a doctor...and pain medication would be great, too.  
Suddenly, the bright light shut off. Harlene curled up again, holding her legs with one arm. She felt fear creeping in once more, until she heard a loud snap and the creaking of the cell door opening.

"You can come out now..." the stranger's voice said, as if he were speaking to a child. Harlene groped the floor, not knowing what to expect. A light in a corner switched on, revealing a beautiful yet old Victorian fainting sofa placed next to a comfortable looking recliner right in an illuminated corner of what seemed to be a basement. Harlene stood up, her legs weak from sitting for so long. She slowly walked toward the doors of the cell, looking for the stranger, who was no where to be seen.  
"Over here." the stranger's voice beckoned from the illuminated corner. She cautiously made her way toward the corner, her eyes searching for this strange man. "Is the doctor in...?" he said, chuckling. Harlene looked around, nodding. She couldn't tell where he was, it was like he had an omnipresence. Suddenly, she felt a someone behind her.  
As she turned, all she saw was a ghostly white face with horrific empty black eyes and a painted red smile standing behind her. She shrieked loudly and collapsed on the sofa, terrified. He walked into the light, revealing his painted face, dirty and scraggly hair with faded green toward the tips. He was dressed in a strangely patterned button up shirt in almost a blue color, and a green waste coat over it. His purple colored pants added to the clown-like look of him.  
Harlene still felt herself backed into the sofa as he walked closer. He was absolutely the most terrifying thing she had ever seen in her life. This sick man painted his face with a sadistic smile, and wore odd clowny colors...he really did need help. "My God...you're the Joker..._the_ Joker..." she exclaimed, staring in an awed terror. With that, he smiled and chuckled his wheeze-like laugh. He hunkered down, attempting to be non-threatening again, as a parent would to ease a child.  
"I won't hurt you, sweetie..." he said, his dark eyes piercing her. He reached out his hand to her, which was stained with dried white face paint. Harlene looked at him like he was crazy, "How can I believe you? I know what you've done. I read about your work in the papers. You're...a murderer." she said. The Joker dropped his hand, looking at her with a confused frown, "So judgemental...goodness. You feed someone, you make sure they stay warm and safe, and then they call you names...," he shook his head, "...not very nice, miss Quinzel. Your technique needs improvement." he said. He reached out his hand once more, offering to help her up from the sofa. She only stared at it.  
"Well, if this won't get you up from there..." he said in a frustrated tone. He stood up and forcefully grabbed her from the sofa. Harlene shrieked as he picked her up and sat her in the recliner. He looked at her and shook his head, "When you don't cooperate with me, things will just have to be done the hard way, miss Quinzel." he said sternly. Harlene was shaking so much the recliner was trembling as well.  
"Why...am I here?" she asked nervously, tears welling in her eyes. The Joker sat down on the sofa, turning and kicking up his feet to relax. He put his arms behind his head and rested on it for a moment, "I already told you, doc. I'm your patient." he looked over at her with his piercing eyes, "...I need help..." he said in a mocking tone. He snickered for a moment at himself.  
_Does he really expect me to give him therapy, or is this clown playing with me?_

The Joker relaxed on the sofa, closing his eyes. Harlene sat in the recliner, watching him. "I get it now." she said. The Joker opened his eyes. "I know why you picked me. My name. I know what it sounds like, and I've gotten comments about it my whole life." she explained. "Harlene Quinzel." the Joker said as if he were talking about someone he adored. "...Are you going to kill me?" asked Harlene nervously. The Joker sighed and sat up on the sofa, looking at her wearily. "Does it comfort you to know what's to come? Does it make you...feel prepared? What good is knowing I'm going to kill you?" he said. Harlene stared at him, trying not to show fear. "You really are inexperienced in the art of psychiatry, aren't you?" he said with a snicker. "You killed him..." she said, glancing toward her cell.

The Joker began to chuckle a bit, "I didn't kill him! That fella's been here for a while before I arrived!" His chuckle was honest and deep. It seemed he was enjoying the idea that she believed he had killed someone.  
"Besides, I don't think I could...hurt such a beautiful creature." he said, resting his hand on her leg. Harlene jumped, knocking off his hand in disgust. She felt trapped. She couldn't just run. Where would she go? She had no choice but to put up with him and wait for the right moment. The Joker snickered, "Oh, getting a bit prickly aren't we? I bet you'd enjoy a hot bath, hmm?" he said, still snickering. Harlene turned bright red. It was true, she had shivered so much and so long, her legs were no longer smooth, exposed by her pencil skirt.

Her hair was matted and greasy and she felt so exposed, especially around a sick sadistic clown. "I'll let you have that luxury, if you will promise to do me one favor, miss Quinzel..." he offered. Harlene swallowed hard, waiting to hear his requirement. "You must promise me...that you'll treat me with therapy sessions from now on." he said with a smile. Harlene frowned, but hung her head in defeat. She was desperate for a bath. To be warm and comfortable again. She nodded tiredly. "Oh! Goodie-goodie!" the Joker giggled, slapping his knee. He then stood, turning his back to her and pulling something out of his pocket, "Sorry, doc, it's going to be dark again one more time..." he said. Suddenly, he covered her head with a black bag. She screamed but it seemed to echo in vain.  
She couldn't see a thing, but she could feel the Joker throw her thin frame over his shoulder. After what seemed like a hike over a mountain, the bag was pulled off of her head. She nervously looked around, surprised at her sudden change of scenery. She was no longer surrounded by cement, but the clean, white tiles in a luxurious bathroom. A large jakoozi tub was in front of her, and the entire bathroom was actually quite tasteful.  
"Feel free to bathe as long as you need, doctor. Everything you might possibly need is in the cabinet. Knock on the door when you're finished. And...enjoy, miss Quinzel." said the Joker with a snicker.

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

**Note From Author: Thanks to my readers. I am extremely pleased that my vision of an original "Joker&Harley" story is coming to life through this. Let me just let you all know: My story is supposed to fit into the "Christopher Nolan" universe. This is the Heath Ledger Joker I'm writing about. It's up to the reader if he/she chooses to see it that way though. It's your choice, readers. I just hope you continue to like my writing.  
Also, if there is a gap between releases of the chapters, please understand I have a job and a life outside of my writing on here, so bear with me if you would. I do appreciate those of you who stick with me.  
Thank you!**

**And, as always...enjoy!**

**-TB**

The Joker turned and left the bathroom, leaving Harlene completely by herself. She looked around, not sure if she should even undress. She realized that maybe this was a chance to find a way to escape. She scanned the room for any windows, but there were none. This bathroom had to be in the center of this building.  
She then tried to see if there were any vents large enough for her to crawl through.  
_Wait...no, not a good idea. Not yet. I'll get the water running first so he doesn't get suspicious...  
_Harlene turned to the large jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. The decor of the room was very luxurious and wealthy. Such a huge change from the place she'd been in for so long.

She turned on the hot water faucet and let the water spill into the tub. Harlene began to turn around and look for an escape, but the soothing sound of the water and the warmth of the steam beckoned her strongly to bathe.  
She didn't want to change, fearing that the Joker had a peep hole somewhere, waiting to watch her strip.  
_Sadistic fuck..._  
She saw a small white closet door on the other side of the large bathroom. She opened it carefully, just in case he was listening. She looked inside. Completely empty except for a few old shoe boxes. She looked around for any holes or vents. Nothing, it was sealed. She grabbed her towels and went to undress in the closet.  
Dropping her clothes on the floor, she wrapped herself in the surprisingly soft towel the Joker had left for her.

The tub was nearly full now and Harlene was stepping in carefully. The warm water hitting her skin was almost painful from how cold she had been, but after she let herself soak a while, it became soothing and relaxing. She had grabbed a kit of bar soap, shampoo and a lady razor with some shaving cream so she could finally feel clean again. Time seemed to slow down.  
As she washed and shaved, her mind seemed to drift away, she wasn't scared, she was relaxed again. Ever since she was young, baths always made her troubles melt away. She washed her hair, loving the fruity smelling shampoo. She began to hum softly as she relaxed, breathing in the steam. She looked over at a panel of buttons on the side of the tub, pressing one. The jets on the sides began to spout water in a massaging rythem. She felt so at ease.  
After she had finished shaving and rinsed out her hair, she stood up out of the tub. She had not realized how dirty she was until she looked down at the bath water. She made a disgusted face and grabbed her towel to dry off.

She turned and headed back to the closet where she had left her clothes at the door. She looked down. Her clothes were gone. She looked in the closet. _Did I leave them inside?_ They weren't there either. She knew she had left them on the floor. Where were they? She suddenly stopped.  
_Oh no...he took my clothes while I was bathing..._ The mere thought made Harlene shutter. She wrapped her towel around herself tighter, looking around to find anything to put on that was dry. Suddenly, she heard the door to the bathroom open.  
She whirled around, clutching the towel to her body. She was shaking. No one came in, but a long garment bag was hung on the clothing hook on the inside of the door. There was a note attached to it. The door closed.  
Harlene stood still a moment, she didn't know what to do. She carefully walked over to the door, fearing that at any moment, the door would fly open again.  
She looked at the bag, seeing the note that said "Wear this". Harlene swallowed hard. She took down the bag and looked to see what was inside. A long, beautiful red gown was on the hanger, complete with an expensive looking necklace and earrings set in a baggy. Harlene was shocked, half expecting it to be some skimpy schoolgirl outfit, or a kinky leatherette. She was relieved.

After she had slipped on the dress, she looked at herself in the large mirror in the bathroom. She looked elegant in it for sure. She held one of the earrings in her hand, examining it. They had a brilliant luster to them. _Could they be real diamonds?_ she wondered. She put them on, admiring them in the mirror.  
She then heard a knocking at the door. Harlene jumped. _What do I say?_  
"Miss Quinzel, are you decent?" the familiar voice asked. She swallowed. She didn't want to answer, but she didn't want him to ask again. "Yes, I am..."  
The door opened, and there was the Joker, who must've been waiting on her the whole time. Harlene felt his eyes on her. She was shaking in terror. "You look...ravishing..." he said smiling. Harlene didn't know how to react. She simply stood, still shaking, wishing that she could just disappear from this place. The Joker walked over to the bathroom counter next to her, picking up the necklace. "Let me help you with this." he said, holding it up. He looked at her, waiting for her to accept his offer. She closed her eyes, lifting up her wet hair. She was so nervous. The Joker lifted the necklace over her head, draping it gently around her neck. He let his hands gently slide over it to grab the clasp, feeling her soft, clean skin. Harlene couldn't help but cringe. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. After what seemed like hours, he finally clasped the necklace on her and stepped back. Harlene let her hair drop back to her shoulders, she opened her eyes, seeing the necklace draped around her neck, sparkling.  
"Diamonds certainly suit you, Miss Quinzel."  
"They're...real...?"  
"Of course. Malony never wasted his money on plastic rocks." he said, still wearing his sadistic smile.  
"You stole these from a mob leader...?" Harlene asked, stunned. "I stole nothing, I only claimed what was left behind. Malony is dead." he explained. He walked around her looking her up and down, seemingly in deep thought. "It's missing something..." he said. He suddenly snapped his fingers and walked to the closet. He opened the door, grabbing one of the shoe boxes. He dropped it on the counter, "Here."  
Harlene looked at the box, seeing a pair of gold heels inside, that were surprisingly her size. She looked at him, befuddled, "Why are you doing this...?" she asked. The Joker grabbed one of the heels and held it up to his own shoe, "Well, sweetie, unfortunately I can't fit in them. My dreams of cross-dressing just had to be put aside." he snickered. Harlene couldn't help but smile at his comment.  
He stayed knelt down, looking at her with piercing dark eyes. She didn't understand his motives, and it was like he had no tell. After years of college for situations with people like him, it was like she had nothing.  
"May I...?" he asked, holding up the heel, offering to slip it on her foot. _If I say no, I don't know what he would_ _do. _She shuttered, muttering a timid "yes".

He undid the small buckle and carefully picked up her foot. He held her foot firmly with one hand, but let his other, holding the heel, glide over her soft skin. He placed her foot down, letting his hand slip up her now smooth legs. She shuttered again, "Please...don't..." she pleaded. He looked up at her, quickly jerking his hands away, "Sorry miss Quinzel, but your skin is like silk after a good washing. It's very...tempting." he said, licking his lips.  
_Ugh...disgusting fuck!_ She quickly grabbed the other heel from the box, "I can do it myself, thank you." she insisted. The Joker smerked and stood up. Without saying a word, he left the room.  
Harlene sighed, putting on the other heel. She looked in the mirror, admiring the outfit. _But...why?__ Why me...?_ Thoughts raced through her mind. Ans what was he planning for these "therapy sessions"?

To be continued...


End file.
